


The Blitz

by shutterbug



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Army, British Military, First Meetings, Gen, London, Soldiers, This went places, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutterbug/pseuds/shutterbug
Summary: During the Blitz of London, Lieutenant Colonel Reid and Officer Artherton rescue an American.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	The Blitz

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, a WWII AU. For @omg-okimhere, who asked for “Artherton, a deafening sound.”
> 
> I apologize for any historical inaccuracies.

The alarm sounded clear across the city. 

The loud drone of the Luftwaffe buzzed overhead. 

Artherton ducked behind a tower of rubble—once a bakery—to shield himself from the explosion of another bomb. 

Another bomb in London. 

His commander, Lieutenant Colonel Reid, ran amid the shrapnel, his arms above his head. He dived for a man, half-buried, and Artherton joined him—always his helper—to find an American, bloody and barely conscious. 

“We will get you safe, man,” said Reid, and Artherton shot him a skeptical glance. ‘Safe’ seemed a relative term nowadays, and never guaranteed. 

“My thanks,” croaked the man. 

Artherton set about clearing debris, piece by piece, to free the American below. Meanwhile, Reid cradled the man’s head. 

“What is your name?”

“Jackson. Captain Jackson.” 

“Captain?” asked Reid. “In the American Army?”

“The very same.” The American, Artherton noticed, mustered a weak smile. 

“Well, then you are our brother, and we must look after you,” Reid said, firm and determined. 

At that moment, another siren blared. Artherton fought the impulse to cover his ears. Even Reid flinched, he saw. 

“Artherton?” Reid shouted. “Have you seen Deborah?”

Still lifting debris away from Captain Jackson, he replied, “Yes, sir! She tends to the school children, sir!” 

He hated to disappoint his commander, but he must—always—speak the truth. And, at that moment, the truth leapt in front of his eyes as a clear and present threat: when he raised his eyes to the sky, he saw a crooked line of bombs as they fell from German airplanes. Fell toward the earth. Toward himself, Reid, and their new brother. 

“Lieutenant Colonel! We must move!” Then he pointed toward his terror, his heart a drumbeat in his throat. 

“We must go, Captain!” Reid shouted, hooking his hands under their new friend’s arms and pulling him—to the Captain’s obvious pain—to safety. Artherton led the way, throwing open the door to a basement pub. Underground was best, he knew—and he let Reid pass as he held the door. Captain Jackson hobbled alongside. 

In the deserted basement, the three men found a corner. They huddled there. Fear descended upon them. Artherton chanced a look at his companions. Reid held their new friend, as if all their lives depended on his survival. Artherton crept closer to them. 

“We should be out there,” Reid said, his voice pitching high with distress. 

“We can do good here, sir,” Artherton countered. He had no wish to return to the fray. 

“But Deborah.” 

“Deborah is a hearty lady,” Artherton said—and meant it. “She can take care of herself, and more besides.” 

Artherton felt a surge or relief when Reid nodded, apparently convinced. 

Another bomb strike made the earth rumble. 

“Sir,” Artherton whispered. “Let us care for this man. Deborah would tell us as much.” 

Reid nodded again. “Yes, yes, you are right, Artherton. Save one life—”

“You save the world entire.” 

“Indeed.” 

So he and Reid turned their attention toward their friend. It happened that he was quite useful—a doctor himself. “A doctor _and_ a Captain?” Reid asked. 

“Oh, yes. My two best qualities,” he said, managing a grin. 

“Would you agree to help us, if you live?” Reid asked. “We could use men such as you in the field.” 

“For some bread and whiskey?” Captain Jackson shrugged, then answered his own question. ”Sure.” 

“Then you shall have it,” Reid replied. When Artherton raised his eyebrows, Reid added, “Eventually.” 

“Fair enough,” said the Captain. Then he pointed toward his leg. “Now, it’s clear you two have no medical training, so, if you don’t mind, I’ll tell you what to do, and you do it.” 

Artherton paused. He flicked his eyes toward his commander. Rank and order meant much to him, and he would not obey another man unless bid to do so. 

But Reid peered down at their friend, then at Artherton. “Yes. Yes, we defer to your expertise, Captain. Doctor.” 

“Fantastic,” the Captain drawled. “First, you’ll need to get me a shot of whiskey. Or somethin’ equally as strong.” 

Artherton rolled his eyes. “And this a medical necessity, is it?”

Captain Jackson stared at him. “Oh, yes.” 

Reid threw his hand out—a makeshift order. “Do it, man.” 

So Artherton searched the premises. He returned with a bottle in his hand. “Gin’s the best I could find, sir.” 

“That’ll do,” replied the Captain. 

“I was speaking to my commander, American,” Artherton said, drawing the bottle back toward his chest. 

But Reid echoed him. “He’s right, that’ll do.” 

So Reid supported the Captain’s head while Artherton poured a few shots of gin down his throat. 

“Good man,” the Captain asserted, pointing at him. “Now. You’ll need to wrap up my ankle there with whatever you can find. A cloth. Towel. Rip your clothes, if you have to.” 

Artherton located a small tea towel and used it to secure the Captain’s ankle in place. 

“Great,” Jackson said. “Now we wait.” 

“We wait?!” Reid’s impatience surfaced. 

“Yeah. We wait.” 

“I’m not sure if you noticed,” Artherton said. “But time is of the essence.” 

“No, it ain’t.” 

“What do you mean, ‘it _ain’t’?”_

“I mean, ‘it ain’t.’”

Artherton and Reid exchanged a pessimistic glance. 

Reid took charge. “Captain, while we appreciate that you may provide help to those who need it,” he said, his voice a forced calm. “You must realize that we can help many others, if we only leave and seek them out.” 

“Nah.” 

They stared at the American. 

“Look,” Jackson said. “If you go out there now, a bomb will flatten you. Almost guaranteed. If you wait just a few minutes—say, ten—you’ll be able to search unimpeded and help far more people.” 

“And you know this, how?” Reid demanded. 

“Because this ain’t the first war I been in,” replied Jackson. 

“Fine.” Reid sat back on his haunches, drawing a deep, noisy breath. “Fine. We will wait. But we move in ten minutes.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Artherton. 

“Deal,” said Jackson. After a few silent seconds, he added, “Any of you boys got a cigarette?”


End file.
